


look me in the eyes, tell me what you see

by Ghostie_Wyatt



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Enderman Hybrid Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Enderman Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Gen, Ghost Wilbur Soot, Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Winged Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 16:42:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28709907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghostie_Wyatt/pseuds/Ghostie_Wyatt
Summary: it's a well known fact that ranboo is, and always has been, half enderman. it's also a well known fact that he despises the touch of water almost as much as he despises the concept of being on sides, fighting people.what isn't as well known is how much his enderman side affects him.~~or, ranboo is an enderman hybrid, and people don't know as much as they think they do.~~lowercase intended!none of the relationships in this are romantic, everything is platonic, okay? if I knew how, i would add that into the tags but I don't know how
Relationships: Ranboo & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo & Wilbur Soot
Comments: 11
Kudos: 703





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> phil took one look at ranboo and decided "yes, I will be adopting this one too, and he did!" 
> 
> good on him, honestly.

it's a well known fact that ranboo is, and always has been, half enderman. it's also a well known fact that he despises the touch of water almost as much as he despises the concept of being on sides, fighting people.

what isn't as well known is how much his enderman side affects him.

\--

ranboo is sat in the top floor of technoblade's house, next to a bell still faintly ringing in his ears. his throat hurts from yelling but he doesn't mind the soreness, a soft smile plastered across his face. his limbs- too long, he briefly thinks, are folded awkwardly underneath him, one arm in the air, resting on the block to bell is on top of.

he stares at his hand- at the black, almost scaly texture of his skin, at his nails, almost claw like in nature, at the tiny purple speckles dotted about- and those are scales, almost.

he blinks mismatched eyes, smile falling briefly. a strand of white hair falls in front of his eye, and he blows it away, letting the arm slide down the side of the block. faintly, he can see his reflection in the glass across from him. 

he stands, squinting to get a better view. he briefly makes eye contact with himself, and startles. he calms just as fast. it was only himself- nobody dangerous, nobody else. he does it again, ignoring the feeling of hands crawling up his neck and onto his head and beginning to crush him. his throat feels too tight, actually- he breaks the eye contact again, gasping for air, eyes wide as he flails aimlessly, hands finally grabbing onto the edges of the windowsill as he heaves a few breaths, gulping like a fish out of water.

still. even as awful as that feels, he doesn't have it as bad as his relatives- those who weren't just half enderman. with that knowledge, he steels himself, and stares again, examining his every feature, the way his mouth is too long, stretching from side to side of his face- reminding him, in a way, of a snake's jaw. not that he could unhinge it, that'd just be plain weird. he raises a hand to the white side of his face, gently poking at the grey lines that highlight his cheekbones- would it be highlighting, since they were darker? shadowing? he shakes his head, looking at the jagged split between the white and black. 

...

why had phil let him stay?

why had techno let him stay?

why had anybody let him stay?

he makes a strangled noise, tearing his gaze from his face, and all but racing downstairs, coming to a sudden halt in front of the enderman techno has managed to get into a boat. what were they called again? he pauses, staring at the space next to their head, eyebrows furrowing in his concentration.

had they been called edward? ...that seemed right. yeah, that sounded like that was the right name. he gave the enderman a shaky smile, raising a trembling hand in a half hearted wave, tilting his head when the enderman makes a little 'vwoop' noise. part of him wants to respond, actually. he does. the enderman turns away. his shoulders fall. oh.

he blinks back a familiar sting in his eyes, and turns to leave, quietly slipping through the door and heading out to his little shack next to the clifface. the gaps in his armour allow snowflakes through and they sting at his skin, making his eyes well up again. at least the snow doesn't hurt as much as rain, or puddles, or even the sea itself. or just water, in general, really.

so it's not surprising when his cheeks begin to burn, and then burn some more when he raises a gloves hand to furiously scrub the tears and their tracks away. god, he's a mess.

he stares out at the sky, once under the roof of his home, and basking in the warmth of the furnace.

he longs. he doesn't know exactly what for, but he longs for something far away, something that, ever since he'd found that stronghold, had been scratching at his brain. maybe he wants to go back home. home? was the end home? had it ever been home to him? he wasn't sure. he couldn't remember, and it wasn't in his book. but if it wasn't in the book, then surely it wasn't important? but how could home ever be unimportant? and why does he have so may questions?

he continues to stare, unfocused, too deep in thought to register the sound of crackling- snow underneath boots. boots that, if he'd paid attention, he would have recognized as phil's.

phil doesn't say anything. he just sits down next to ranboo, relighting the furnace and unfolding one ruffled wing, and spreading it above ranboo's head, blocking the few snowflakes that blew in from the storm outside. no wonder the boy was shivering.

the storm continues to rage on, and at some point during it ranboo shuffles toward phil, letting the man cocoon him in his arms- and, eventually wings.

he doesn't know what's wrong, but phil makes a promise to himself that he wouldn't fuck this up. he wouldn't abandon this one like he had the others when they'd needed him most.

the storm clears.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I like hurting my comfort characters <3
> 
> I also had to rewrite this like 5 times which is why it took so long lmao

there's a snowstorm outside. it's the first thing he notices when he awakes from some kind of hazy slumber. getting out of bed is like wading through murky water, the cold biting at his skin like millions of miniature pirahnas- each out for blood, and his blood only.

he pulls his armour on with shaky hands, shivering in a feeble attempt to shake off the snowflakes that burn his body where they land, leaving the tiniest red and raised marks. they hurt more on the enderman side of him, but the burn of water is something he's used to- and if anything it just motivates him to pull on the warm armour even faster than he usually would.

technoblade's house looks surprisingly inviting right now. 

he'd walk over if he were braver, if he weren't so scared of being a bother despite techno and phil's frequent reassurances that he was free to take shelter whenever the weather was too bad. after all, the tiny shack he resided in was hardly enough to keep him safe from the brutal weather.

he lets out a quiet vwoop, distressed by the stinging of melted snow. he glances down at the 'comfort room', then gives a hum, climbing down the ladder into the underground space. it's warmer, unsurprisingly, and he sighs constantly, hopping over the fence that kept ranbun in, sitting himself down with the small group of pets.

ranbun hops over, sprawling over his legs. ranboo can't help but smile at the bunny, gently running his fingers through the coarse fur, ears flicking at the sound of something above the ground. he's not too bothered. animals had a habit of taking residence under the roof.

still, they didn't normally move around that much...

he picks ranbun up, moving the rabbit from his lap, and then stands, drawing his sword, and forcing himself to teleport outside, sword pointed.

oh. it's just ghostbur. he lets his shoulders slump, relaxing as he sheathes his sword.

ghostbur turns to face him, a familiar blue lamb cradled in his arms. friend bleats, and ranboo blinks, stepping back into the shack, stepping around ghostbur, and back to the ladder. 

"sorry, ranboo- friend was getting cold, he doesn't like the snow very much." ghostbur apologises. ranboo smiles, shrugging. he doesn't mind. "I was also starting to melt a bit!" the ghost adds, giggling, mentioning with his head toward the rest of his body, which is dripping away into the snow and through the earth. ranboo stares for a split second. how had he not noticed that? 

"it's okay." is all ranboo can think of as a response. and it is okay- ranboo likes ghostbur- he doesn't quite remember why, but he knows that ghostbur is a friend- or at least, he's pretty sure he is. why wouldn't he be? ghostbur has given him blue, to try and make him feel better. 

ranboo pretends he doesn't notice how the blue is just that- already blue when given away. wasn't it only supposed to go blue when absorbing sadness? he wonders of ghostbur is aware of that. he also wonders if ghostbur has actually been screaming for help this whole time by handing out the already stained blue.

he flinches at the thought, watching as ghostbur takes the blue, brightening slightly. he only half heartedly listens to the thanks he receives in return, before descending into the room, gesturing for ghostbur to follow.

the room is warmer, and surely that'd help ghostbur regain his...form, right? hopefully it did.

he watches as ghostbur floats down through the gap, setting down friend once it was safe to do so. the lamb looks around for a moment, wide eyes fixing onto ranboo for a short while- and then he shakes his head, beginning to trot around.

ranboo turns his attention to ghostbur, eyebrows furrowing at the way he focuses onto the tear in the yellow sweater he wears. he shouldn't stare- it's probably weird to do so but he can't help but think about it, think about wether or not it hurt to die. surely the wound did, but ghostbur was adamant he only remembered good things, and he remembered his death, so...

but those were different circumstances. he hadn't been there, but he knew how wilbur had begged phil to kill him after the button had been pressed. he wondered if it hurt when the sword pierced his chest, if it hurt when he fell to the ground on already bloodied knees into shattered stone, wondered if it hurt to have the last thing he saw be the ruins of the place he'd fought tooth and nail for, and then destroyed when it had escaped the hook that attached it to the rod he'd been clutching so tightly.

ranboo thinks that he'd liked to have met wilbur. maybe not right at the end, but...

he shakes his head.

no.

ghostbur is fine- besides, nobody actually wants that wilbur back, right? ghostbur is probably much better- and besides, he can relate to the ghost more than he'd like to admit. that scares him.

he grimaces.

his thoughts move elsewhere.

sometimes he wished he could forget as quickly as ghostbur did. sure, his memory was fucked anyway, but not to the extent that mere minutes after something he'd already forgotten.

he hated his memory problems, but he envied ghostbur on that front.

his eyebrows furrow as he's dragged back to reality from the chasm of his thoughts by ghostbur saying something.

"- ranboo? oh, hello! thought i'd lost you for a moment there. do you think i should get friend another sheep to keep him company? because, well, i'm not always here to be with him and he probably gets lonely, y'know?" ghostbur looks at ranboo with something akin to hope in his eyes. ranboo has a better idea.

"i'm around quite a lot...you could always bring him to me when you're heading off, i can take care if him." he offers, not really knowing why he's doing so. what is he thinking? but it's too late now, so he just goes along with it.

ghostbur gives a large grin, floating a little higher and running a circle around ranboo. "oh, really? that's good!" he floats back down, kneeling next to friend, cooing to him softly.

a yawn tries to escape ranboo as he watches the two. he's not bored or anything, he swears, he's just...tired. though he doesn't know why- he's slept fine, right? right. he shakes his head, and checks outside, nodding in approval when he sees that the snow has calmed itself.

ghostbur has almost fully reformed too, he notices. not that it matters. the ghost can stay however long he wants.

ranboo likes the company.

it's better than his thoughts.


End file.
